When I was pregnant

>> Monday, February 14, 2011

When I was pregnant with my son, I was a massive ball of stress the entire time. I didn't know how we were going to survive. We were living in my parents' basement, unemployed, both going to school--it was simply dreadful. I cried all the time and more than once, considered placing my Sweet Baboo for adoption. I just didn't know how we could give him any kind of life, and I wanted better for him. Somehow, with God's help, we managed to pull it together just in time. But it was stressful, and I never want to relive that experience again.

I promised myself that next time, things would be different. My pregnancy would be exciting, rather than terrifying. We'd be living in a house, instead of a cramped apartment. Our kid would have a designer nursery, I would get professional maternity and newborn photos done, and we would have the latest and greatest in baby gear.

Well, apparently that is not going to happen.

Yep. That's two lines, people. Two pink lines. I'm pregnant. Again. Apparently no amount of IUDs or condoms are sufficient to keep my womb vacant.

I am surprisingly happy about it. I've written before about how I didn't know if I wanted any more kids, because of the timing issue. I knew it wouldn't be responsible for us to have another kid for at least another 5 or 6 years, and I didn't know how I felt about the kids being so spaced out. I wanted them to be closer, and have a better chance of relating to each other and being friends. I also didnt want to start all over again with the sleepless nights and diaper changes and breastfeeding. Well, it looks like now we don't have to worry about it. Baby #2 is due on October 7th, and has already been nicknamed Pumpkin, in keeping with the fall theme.

As you know, I've been looking for a job in the social services field. Since finding out I was pregnant last week, I've had to cast my net a lot wider, and I found something. Its not at all what I want to be doing, but I guess working at a sandwich shop is better than being flat ass broke. The wonderful thing about living in Canada is that once I work through my pregnancy (a minimum of 15 weeks), I'm eligible for a whole year of maternity leave paid for by the government. I need that year off, paid, so of course I am willing to do whatever it takes to have that time at home with our new baby. The other great thing about it is that I don't have to worry about day care. They will work around the hubbs school schedule, so that we can spilt the child care duties between us.

I may not be able to afford to have the pregnancy I thought I'd have this time around, but I'm not going to let that stop me from enjoying it. I have 9 months to practice newborn photography on my son's doll. 9 months to find the best used gear money can buy. Nine months to enjoy every stretch, kick and wiggle this kid throws my way. I could focus on the negative, but I won't.

My kids are going to be close together. And more importantly, they're going to be out of my house by the time I'm 44. Now that is worth celebrating!



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